The rise of the black silt and the new Governor of Stormstead


There’s a black tint to the waters of late. Some say they were poisoned.  Others say it’s a natural ailment of the land.  What I do know is that the waters of Ohm are bleeding black silt and there’s only one way to find out the truth in the matter.  Find the dragon and ask her.  I know! It sounds ridiculous.  But you can’t poison the water without poisoning the dragon.  It’s her tears that flood the pools and mountain streams and cascade to the Kuvari below.  It’s the system of drinking water for the entire land really. Unless you dwell on the opposite side of the valley.  The pools there remain pristine.  It’s the legend of this land that concerns me of late.  First the fiery dragon of Azifix was roused from his slumber and now the groaning from the deep caves of Ohm.  So if she has been awakened as well, the stories hold true.  These old friends, Azifix and Ohm, though they had some falling out a millennia ago, are still stalwart companions, even in these troubled times.


What trouble you ask?  Have you not seen them? Seen him?  The imp, they call him Lucky, he used to work in the bath house here in the village and now, now he’s someone of import, in the Ebon Reach! He’s come into the village with his band of rabble and he’s taken over the governor’s hut.  He has staked his claim as Governor! I’m no expert in village history, but actually I am! Just another bloke in the long line of blokes who come into the village and stake their claim over it all. What makes him any different than the rest?  Those who line their pockets with jewel studded finery and yet leave the village worse off than before they arrived, claiming they knew best for all.  They’ve been here for days now and yet nothing has changed.  They cozy up and take what they like, causing dismay throughout the village and yet, what have they done to aid us in our time of great need?

The sickness has pervaded the drinking water.  It’s everywhecd6f8b399936665de5765bdecff8798cre.  Or at least it seems to be.  It’s sickening to the tongue and awful are its symptoms.  Lesions and headaches and the terrible desire to give  in to its way.  To let it do as it will.  Though I’m not entirely certain what it wants or how I know it wants anything at all.  But I feel strongly that th
ere’s something more to this black silt than the awful fever and terrible pain I feel right now! The Imp and his crew promise a cure.  Though days have gone by and we still suffer.  Why does he make us wait for our salvation? Does he mean to enslave us all? What does it bode for Stormstead when the Myan of the Asing and several strong looking mer appear about the Governor’s hut in these trying days? Are they forming an alliance against us? We should rise up against them! We should take to the paths and to the governor’s hut and riot and demand what is due to us!   Though I feel, before long, there may be no strength left in us for a fight.  I may be hallucinating now, but there’s a deep groaning coming from Mt Ohm and a trembling in the ground beneath my feet.

I look to the mountain and I believe I hear the dragon’s roar.  She is sick they say, she needs to be healed.  But who will heal the great dragon of Ohm?  Who will purify the waters and bring us relief?  The new Governor? The citizenry? The Asing or the Kuvari? The Reach? Perhaps Hope here in her Medica can conjure up a cure? Or the strange fella in the swamps who does magic?

I look to the tavern and I see them, a line of folk walking along the path now.  I recognize some of them.  What are they going to do? They’re heading for the fishing dock. Do they march upon the Myconid cave? Perhaps there is hope yet! Or is it the sting of desperation that drives them? I hope something happens and soon! These lesions are so itchy and my fever grows worse.

– Henry, a very concerned and sick citizen of Stormstead, camped out at the medica.

((submitted ooc by Eiirwen))

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